by Rebecca Leys

My hands are stilled

By the love in my heart

For everything I might write

Has been written before

Oh, a thousand, thousand times

My pride in him, millions have known

As they watched the lengthening limbs

Of a son growing strong

Purposefully turned to each new project

Investigation or mischief

Multitudes have felt their own

Smile stretch weightlessly wide

As their baby laughed

All abandoned to delight

In the jester who parents

Or the fullness in the throat

That soft fist of heat

When guileless arms first

Reach back in longing

To be held

And I stand in kinship

With all those before me

Who learnt the meaning of so

Much they had heard

Once their child was the teacher